So I recently had a crisis of purpose about blogging. To be honest, more like the sudden crystallization of an ongoing but repressed crisis of purpose about blogging. I became a writer partially because I hate being observed—can even start crying, if it happens for too long—and yet I currently spend money I don’t have to upkeep a site devoted to cultivating observation. My worst nightmare is asking somebody out for coffee or ice cream and they say, no. A website is like that, only with the whole world, and anyone, anywhere, can say, no. By never coming to my website, which some small part of me will take personally even if I never even know about it. All of this to say: a crisis of purpose.
So then I had this idea to make a blog-roll. I’ve always noticed these. You kind of declare your posse. I thought, even if my own website wasn’t that great, I could turn it into one of those shitty little towns that’s secretly a killer transportation hub. You don’t want to spend the night, but you can take a bus somewhere snazzy.
Like you can go to Tunes for Bears, my brother Julian’s blog about ultrarunning and development economics. Or my friend Colleen Kinder’s global headquarters—full of travel writing that busts the seams of ordinary travel writing, and such beautiful photos you will stay for a long time. Or Fashion for Writers, where my friend Jenny looks and writes hot,; or Large-Hearted Boy, that puts up soundtracks for works of fiction; or the Page 69 Test that is not what you think, and analyzes the 69th page of books you’ve never heard of…Or the Claudius App, a new poetry journal, which—what to say about the Claudius App? It has a mysterious gray bar.
So go to. Get on the bus. Follow Rabbit Holes. Enjoy.